


Rules and Broomsticks (only one is meant to be broken)

by juice817, semaphoredrivethru



Series: Past Curfew [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 04:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/278851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juice817/pseuds/juice817, https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver is out past curfew again, only this time he knows exactly what he's looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to [Past Curfew](http://juice817.livejournal.com/160288.html), or as we like to call it, _Queer as Wizards_.  We suggest reading that one first.

~~~*~~~  


Hogwarts looked pretty much the same as it had when Bill had left it five years earlier. The towers were still strong and tall, the windows still gleamed in the sun, and the lawn still seemed exceptionally vibrant, even for the rainy climate of Scotland. Even the sand of the Quidditch pitch still looked brand new and sparkling, as though countless students hadn't landed in it over and over again, especially when Charlie was first leaning to play _real_ Quidditch (because, as Bill had been told so very earnestly when his younger brother had first joined the team, the Quidditch they always played at home was just "kids' stuff").

Sitting next to his parents, still not entirely certain how he'd been talked into going to the first Gryffindor match of the season, Bill idly thought how he'd always reckoned it would be a lot longer before he came back to his old school again. But, then again, it had been either this, or give in and let his mum take her wand to his hair, and there really was no way he was letting her do _that_. Really, he was going to have to see about having the bank lessen the number of trips to England he had to make.

"Fred and George say that Harry's even better than last year," Molly remarked happily. "They say that they haven't seen a Seeker as good since Charlie, even. I always knew that boy would do well, you know, and not just because of his beating You Know Who. I took one look at him that first day in Kings Cross and I could see all the potential he had. Now if only he'd get Ronald to try a bit harder, that would be wonderful. But I'm sure that this Wood boy that Fred and George mentioned is a good part of why Harry's doing so well. He's got potential to turn pro, I've heard, and he works the team so much that I'm surprised the boys haven't been complaining as much as they did last year. Why, to hear them tell it, this captain of theirs is stark-raving and won't take anything but Quidditch for an answer..."

Bill let his mind wander, not really thinking about anything in particular as the stands filled up around them. They were sitting fairly close to the back, leaving room for the students, and as the Slytherin team was announced and the kids stood up to either cheer or boo, he said a quick prayer that his brothers wouldn't blame him for the random appearance of the family contingent. It wasn't as though the game was for the Cup, after all, and there was very little more embarrassing than having your mother slobber all over you in front of your mates.

Oliver was so bloody excited, and nervous too. The first game of the season. He had the fleeting thought that he wished Bill were there to see him, cheer him on, and brushed it off. He'd find Bill again somehow, he had to, even though he didn't know how he ever could. Oliver shook himself. No. No thinking about shagging before a game. Quidditch was all that mattered right now. Shagging could be all that mattered the rest of the time. It certainly had been for the month or so since he'd been thoroughly deflowered.

With a laugh at his own thoughts, Oliver strode confidently out of the locker room, stomach roiling and knees nearly water. His team followed him out and they prepared to mount up, excitement all around them, in them. They fed each other's excitement and nerves, winding each other up until the curtains opened and they flew out to the cheers of the students. Oliver was nearly blinded by the sudden sunlight after the darkness of the staging areas, so he flew instinctively, following his team in a circuit around the pitch and then up, up to his hoops to stand guard, ready to play.

 _From this far away, the Gryffindor Keeper looks almost familiar_ , Bill mused, not really listening to his mother's running commentary on everything to how nice the children looked in their uniforms to how it really was a terrible shame that they didn't catch half of the cheating moves the Slytherins were pulling off. Leaning back a bit to make eye contact with his father, Bill rolled his eyes good-naturedly, only to find his gaze falling back on the keeper. There was a lot of raw talent in the air, Bill could see, but that boy seemed to have been born on a bloody broom as he watched to hoops, stopping the quaffle and dodging the bludger all while shouting instructions to his team. Bill had vague recollections of this Wood character, but not much more than the idea of a skinny kid with far too many Quidditch magazines than school books in his bag.

Still, there was something about Wood that reminded Bill of someone. The shoulders, that was it; they reminded him of that kid he'd pulled outside of the club a month and a half ago. The kid that had lied and pushed forward, denying his virginity until after he'd fucked like... well, like nothing Bill could honestly compare him to. It hadn't been the best fuck of his life, but thanks to the alcohol, he just couldn't shake the feeling that there had been something different in fucking Oliver than anyone else. Not, of course, that he'd mentioned that part to his mates. Nigel was still taking the piss out on him for liking "younger blokes" and offering to take him by the primary schools the next time Bill needed a date.

There was a terrific commotion in the stands, people pointing up into the sky, and Bill looked in time to see the two teams' Seekers flying madly about, chasing the Snitch, which had made an unusually early appearance. But wait... it looked like Harry was having a spot of trouble with a Bludger that he couldn't seem to shake. Bill leaned forward, mind firmly on the surprisingly exciting match, thoughts about his daftest choice of one-offs _ever_ firmly put off.

Oliver watched the bludger nearly hit Harry. "Watch yourself, Harry," he said, and then saw the dawning horror just before Harry cried, "Wood, look out!" and suddenly he was spinning, his broom handle shattered by the same bludger. Oliver fought with his broom, unable to steer it at half-length, barely able to land without falling off. He managed and stood as soon as he could, broken broom in one hand, the other raised to shade his eyes as he watched Harry and Malfoy chase the snitch, bludger on Harry's heels.

Cringing, Oliver imagined he could hear the bones snap as the bludger hit, but Harry kept going, reaching with the other hand. "Go, go, go!" Oliver yelled, waving his broken broom. He jumped and cheered as Harry landed hard, snitch in hand.

Several rows ahead of them, Bill saw a girl with bushy brown hair point her wand at the rogue Bludger, blasting it out of the sky. His mum was already fussing about Harry, planning to stay at the school until he was better, just in case there was anything he needed, because of course he'd need someone there, and really, Harry was part of the family, now wasn't he?

Bill had a horrifying image of Molly insisting they camp out at the school for the rest of the Quidditch season, policing the matches, and paled, holding up one freckled hand while his dad tried to edge in and stop her before she built up too much of a head of steam.

"Er, Mum..." Bill tried when his dad couldn't get through the tirade. "I don't think that'll be necessary. You know Madame Pomfrey will fix him right up in no time, and besides, it'll only embarrass him to know we saw that, and you know it. It might be best if we pretend we just heard about it; you know how sensitive kids can be. Besides," he added with a wry grin, "when Charlie broke his arm in three places in his fifth year, you sent him the best biscuits ever, and that goes a long way to helping, you know."

It took some doing and promising that he'd stick around to get a full report, but Bill managed to convince his mother to go on home just as they were carting Harry off the field. Ron was, of course, trailing behind, so Bill jogged up to catch him.

"Ron!" he called. "Ron, over here!"

Oliver had started after Harry along with the rest of the team, following the twins, when he heard a familiar voice calling out to their youngest brother. _No,_ he thought. _Couldn't be..._ Oliver shook his head with a wry smile. Now he was hearing Bill's voice when he was awake instead of just when he was dreaming. He really needed to get shagged again. _Or find Bill_ , he thought wistfully.

Turning just enough to see Ron Weasley jogging toward the voice, Oliver was sure he'd see him headed for a Weasley, and just as sure it wouldn't be his Bill. He stopped dead in his tracks. It _was_ his Bill. It really really was. He turned fully around and watched the brothers talking intently, completely unaware of the rather goofy smile on his face. Bill was here. Bill was a Weasley, which meant Oliver would always be able to find him. Having Bill here made up for his shattered broom. Er, almost. The smile faded as he looked at the ruined wood in his hand.

Just as he was extracting Ron's promise to let him know what was going on as soon as he knew himself, Bill felt awareness prickle along the back of his neck. They were walking together, Bill bent to keep things quiet, but as they got closer to the castle, the feeling that he was being watched got stronger. Looking up, Bill froze and thought maybe he'd just cracked, because there were just too damn many coincidences. Pulling a wizard at a Muggle club _and_ having him be his brothers' captain? Bill wanted to shake himself, but as the blood slowly drained from his face in shock, Oliver was still standing there, broken broom in hand.

 _You are so very fucked, mate_ , Bill's mind helpfully supplied, although it had been suspiciously quiet the last time he'd seen the boy. _If you're lucky though, maybe he hasn't seen you._

Oliver sighed mournfully and then shook himself as Ron walked past him with a, "Coming, Wood?"

"Yeah, be a second," Oliver said, eyes lifting to meet Bill's. The look on Bill's face was even worse than the broken wood in his hands. Oliver absorbed the blow and walked slowly to Bill, knowing he should let it go but unable to stop himself. He stopped just in front of Bill and said quietly, "Hello, Bill."

Ron looked confused for a moment. "Oh. That's right, you two'd have been in school together. Look, I'm gonna go check on Harry, 'kay? Bill, I'll meet you later."

"Right." With effort, Bill looked away from the hurt on Oliver's face. It was just so _deep_ and real, but then again, it would make sense that he'd mourn his broom, the poor kid. _And it certainly has nothing to do with the fact that the last time you saw him, the both of you were naked and smeared in spunk, now would it, Weasley?_ "Go on then. Later."

Ron hurried to catch up with the procession, and Bill turned his back to everyone, blocking Oliver's face from anyone who might be watching. "Hullo, Ollie," he said, not really sure what else to say when they were out in the open and Bill was certain he could get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out.

"I guess," Oliver said slowly then took a deep breath. "Right. Guess I'd better go see about Harry." Then he laughed softly, ruefully. "And then see about a new broom." Rather than looking at how uncomfortable Bill was to see him again, Oliver looked at the jagged edges of wood. It was hardly better. "It's been a good broom," he finished lamely.

Bill followed Oliver's gaze and grimaced. "Rough one," he commented, and looked over his shoulder. Nearly everyone seeing after Harry was inside, and soon enough they'd be surrounded by everyone else leaving the stands. "Ollie, I..." He what? Missed him? He shook his head. If he'd given more than a chagrined thought to Oliver in even the past couple of weeks, that would have been it. "I have to go into the village to get a room," he said at last. "I'll be back later though. Maybe we could talk then?" He managed a smile smile, shock fading finally.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Right," he said again, voice dry. He'd seen the truth in Bill's face. He shook his head and relaxed his shoulders with conscious effort. "I meant what I wrote," he muttered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Bill said with a wry grin. He felt like seven kinds of a piece of shite for the whole situation, knew Oliver had to learn eventually that a one-off didn't mean that the other bloke would necessarily want to see him again, but at the same time, Bill remembered how attached he'd been for a while to the first bloke who'd shagged him. "Meet me at the front doors before dinner," he said. Somewhere nice and public so there wouldn't be too much of a scene, but quiet enough at that time of the evening they wouldn't have to worry too much about being overheard.

"Sure," Oliver said. He didn't believe for a second that Bill would be there, but Oliver didn't think he'd be in the mood for dinner anyway. He let his eyes slowly move over Bill's face, gut clenching at how _much_ he still wanted Bill. "I'll be there. See you then." Oliver turned and walked away, headed for the castle, broom dragging the grass behind him.

Bill watched Oliver go, privately wondering what in the bloody hell he thought he'd accomplish by all this. "Nothing helpful, at the very least," he muttered, jamming his hands into his pockets and heading off toward Hogsmeade. There ought to be enough time before dinner to get things settled, but there was one thing extra now that he wanted to do. One little thing he needed to pick up.

~**~**~**~**~**~

Oliver sat on the front steps, the cold from the stone seeping through his robes and jeans to freeze his arse, but he hardly noticed. He stared up at the stars, arms looped loosely around his knees as he waited. He'd gone to see Harry, only realising after Harry had spit the first dose of Skele-Gro all over himself that he should have warned him, but Oliver had been distracted. Harry would be fine; Pomfrey was brilliant. And Oliver had McGonagall's permission to go to Diagon Alley after another broom tomorrow, as long as he didn't take any other students or even tell them about his trip off school grounds, and as long as he went only for the broom and came directly back. His lips curved without humour. She certainly wouldn't have approved the trip he made six weeks ago.

He'd promised himself, during his broody afternoon, that he _would_ have Bill again. Bill just hadn't expected to see him today, that was obvious. But Oliver was determined. Bill had said he was getting a room in Hogsmeade, although he hadn't said why, and Oliver knew for certain his prey was Burrow-bred. He snorted out a laugh at that, mostly amusement but part satisfaction. He'd be able to find Bill again with no problem. He'd find him in the village, and after that, Percy would keep him updated.

Pulling his legs closer, Oliver rested his chin on his knees and wondered absently how long he should wait before giving up and going back to his dorm.

Normally, you could set your watch by Bill. In fact, he hadn't been late for anything in years until now, as he hurried over the lawn, a long paper-wrapped package balanced over his shoulder. It had taken longer than he'd thought it would to get this particular item, and Bill had learned more than he ever wanted to know in the process. It was only a favour, really. And if he'd spent a good bit of money, then that was just because it was the best deal for it. He saw Oliver sitting on the steps and slowed down to a brisk walk, trying to even out his breathing. The last thing Bill needed was for the kid to think he was looking forward to seeing him.

Even if he did look obscenely fit in his Quidditch robes earlier, making Bill think about things he'd had no business doing with a student in the first place.

"Hullo, Ollie," he said, stepping into the light spilling out onto the lawn from the huge windows. "How's Harry doing?"

"He'll be fine," Oliver said. He turned his head just enough to look at Bill and caught his breath. The older man was flushed, breath coming just a bit harder than normal, and Oliver was reminded forcibly of their night together. Bill had been flushed and panting as he thrust in and out of Oliver's arse. Oliver swallowed and shifted as his jeans got tight. His voice was husky as he continued, "Pomfrey's wicked good with bones; she's regrowing his arm and he'll be good as new tomorrow. Well, the arm'll be fixed." Oliver smiled at Bill, the expression slow and full of intimate knowledge having nothing to do with what he was saying. "It'll be sore for a few days."

Oliver had been sore too. His smile widened. "I didna think you were going to come," he said, accent thicker as he got more aroused. The smile gained a wicked edge as Oliver added, "You were beautiful when you did, though."

Bill felt _want_ coil lazily in his gut, tightening as Oliver's accent thickened. He almost flirted back, almost mentioned how Oliver came enough for the both of them, and so nicely, too. But nothing good would come of that. It was risky enough talking to him here and now. Shifting his weight and adjusting the bundle over his shoulder, Bill ran his hand through his hair. "Oliver..."

"Sit with me," Oliver murmured. He tightened his arms around his knees and turned his head, looking out over the grounds again. Lips twitching, he asked, "What's in your package?" in as innocent a tone of voice as a randy sixteen year old boy could manage.

"I think we both know the answer to that one," Bill said wryly, but gave in and sat next to Oliver anyhow. The stone steps were cold, and it seeped in through the snug denim of his jeans, and Bill shivered. "Fucking cold," he muttered, and then handed Oliver the mystery package. "Here. For you."

"I'd rather open your other package," Oliver said, accepting the paper wrapped bundle. It was clearly a broom, and a soft smile curved Oliver's lips unconsciously. "You didn't have to," he whispered, "but I'm grateful." His hands ran lightly over the paper without opening it.

"Just avoid Bludgers for a while and we'll call it good," Bill said, and then took a deep breath, rubbing his palms over his knees. Gryffindor or not, Bill really didn't want to have to talk about that night. "Take care of yourself, Ollie."

Oliver's throat tightened. "I'd rather take care of you," he said hoarsely, then quickly continued, "Stay, please? I havena unwrapped it yet." Even knowing Bill was only staying a few miles away, Oliver didn't want him to go. Not ever, but certainly not yet. "And you havena said what you wanted to talk about."

Bill waved his hand and watched as Oliver carefully undid the ties and slowly peeled back the paper, one layer at a time. "I think you know that, too," he said quietly, not quite able to look directly at Oliver, instead watching his hands unwrapping his gift.

"No," Oliver said stubbornly. Which was partly true; while he knew Bill thought they should talk about their night he didn't know what exactly what Bill would say. "Why won't you tell me?" But then there was no more paper, and Oliver could see the golden engraving in the handle. "Holy fuck," he whispered. " _Bill_." He raised stunned eyes to Bill's face. "It's the new Nimbus."

Oliver grabbed Bill, the broom falling to the side unnoticed as he pulled him into a series of quick, frantic kisses, whispering "oh my god" and "thank you" in between each press of lips but it wasn't enough, this was a _Nimbus 2000_ , and Oliver slung his leg over Bill's lap, using his hard grip on Bill's shoulders to pull himself up into Bill. " _Thank you_. God, Bill, it's brilliant!" He kissed him again and again, settling himself more fully and comfortably into Bill.

Hands going up automatically, Bill cupped Oliver's hips for a moment before trying to push away his lapful of over-enthusiastic teenager. He laughed quietly, pushing gently at Oliver's shoulders. "You're welcome, kid," he said, grinning and looking far too pleased with himself, even though he wasn't succeeding in freeing himself from Oliver's grasp.

"I thought maybe a Cleansweep, but god!" Oliver gave up on trying for coherence as it finally sunk in that he was in Bill's lap. The kisses lost their frantic edge and slowed, and Oliver's fingers tangled in Bill's hair then cupped Bill's face. "Thank you," he whispered again, lips moving slowly now over Bill's face. "For everything," he breathed and then finally pressed his mouth to Bill's.  
For a moment, Bill relaxed into the kiss, tilting his head and tasting Oliver's mouth and groaning softly as his body reacted instinctively to the feel of a warm, willing body wrapped around his. And then he remembered that this was _Oliver_ and that they were sitting on the front steps of the _school_ and that this sort of behaviour would not only encourage Oliver, but it would also make a bit of a problem out of keeping what happened before a secret.

"Ollie..." he tried, but Oliver's grip was frightfully strong, determined to stay wrapped around Bill. " _Oliver_ , someone will see."

"I don't care," Oliver said. He rocked his hips, rubbing himself against Bill, moaning softly as pleasure curled through him. He'd missed this, _needed_ this ache, more than he'd even realised until he had it again. "I want you to fuck me," he murmured into Bill's mouth. "I want to have your cock inside me." Oliver swallowed and closed his eyes as he shivered. God. "I need to feel you again."

" _Fuck_ ," Bill groaned, hands clenching. It was no fair, Oliver talking like that. "We can't. Not again." Not that Bill could remember why it would be a bad thing to give Oliver what he wanted. He only knew he wasn't supposed to, that he was supposed to just give Oliver the broom and go. He was achingly hard in his jeans, and the way Oliver was rocking in his lap, the way he was kissing, it drove Bill mad with want. He kissed roughly down Oliver's neck, sucking briefly before straightening and trying to push Oliver away again. "We _can't_ ," he repeated, more ragged than before.

"Yeah," Oliver mumbled, "we can." Oliver leaned in to follow Bill's lead, sucking at the juncture of shoulder and neck before kissing up Bill's neck and then adding his own touch, sucking Bill's ear lobe into his mouth. "Have to," Oliver said, voice a rough growl of need. He was out of control and desperate, and Bill felt so fucking _good_ under his hands and mouth, between his legs. "Fuck me."

Bill cupped Oliver's arse through his robes and squeezed. God, but he wanted to do that, wanted to drag Oliver around the corner and fuck him up against the cold stone wall, make him shatter and moan, find out if Oliver had been practising, if that tight, perfect arse would feel better when he was sober. His hands tightened, and Bill was about to pull Oliver closer when he heard the high-pitched voice of a young child from inside. The reminder of where they were was enough, and Bill switched his grip, pushing hard until Oliver was sprawled on the steps next to him.

"Not _here_ ," Bill said, but what he meant to say was _not ever_. He stood, adjusting a ridiculously painful hard-on that he was going to have to take care of himself since Hogsmeade wasn't exactly a gay wizard haven. He looked down at Oliver's dazed and lust-filled face, and knew he should just tell the kid to piss off and let it be at that, but when he opened his mouth, he heard himself say, "Look me up in two years, Ollie." And before he could say anything else that was completely off from what he ought to, Bill turned and walked off into the darkness, palms itching to slide under Oliver's clothes and touch him again.

Oliver watched him go uncomprehendingly, mind completely gone, blood racing through his veins. _Two years_? Not fucking likely, two years. Oliver growled, low sound of raging need, and curled in on himself. Slowly his heart rate calmed as did his breathing and he began to see the wisdom in not having sex on the front steps of Hogwarts. He laughed reluctantly. His cock was still harder than his broom, and... his broom! Oliver scrambled to his feet, wincing. Fuck, he was hard. But his broom! He carefully bent and picked up his beautiful new broom. Bill had bought him the new Nimbus 2000.

Hands running over the smooth wood unconsciously, Oliver stared after Bill. Surely it meant _something_ that Bill had bought him the newest, best, most expensive broom available. A slow grin spread over his face until his cheeks hurt. He hugged the broom to his chest and spun around, then raced up to the Gryffindor dorms to carefully put it away. He needed to find Percy. Percy knew everything, and if you just knew how to ask, he'd tell you anything, too.

~**~**~**~**~**~

He'd been right. Oliver smirked as he dismounted then quietly but confidently walked into Hogsmeade. It was the middle of the night and there was no one else out, not in a small village like this. Percy didn't approve (and really, when did he?) but Bill was staying close until Molly was sure Harry was fine. There were only two places with rooms to let in the whole town, so even though Percy didn't know which Bill was staying in, Oliver was confident he could find Bill. He stopped in the centre of town and held out his hand, barely able to see the two red hairs in his palm in the moonlight. He'd found them on his robes, and they were going to make this so much easier.

Pointing his wand at them, Oliver murmured a charm that shot light out of the end of it. The light shivered over his hand, then went looking for Bill. It sped around every building in the street, and Oliver thought vaguely that this would take ages to work in London. It circled a building down the street on his left, then circled it again, and Oliver's heart started to race. He hurried forward, arriving next to the building just as the light came to a stop at a window on the corner of the second floor. Oliver ended the charm and the light vanished. Bill was in _that_ room, right there.

Oliver mounted his broom and slowly rose to the level of the window, grinning widely as he saw that it wasn't all the way closed. He pushed the glass up and climbed inside. Pushing the window shut again but for a crack of space as before, Oliver propped his broom next to the window and stripped. Leaving his robes on the floor next to his broom, he walked to the bed, smiling softly as he saw Bill sprawled nude over the sheets. He slid onto the bed carefully and then began to stroke that warm freckled skin, lips following his hands, tongue occasionally darting out to taste. Nuzzling Bill's stomach, Oliver kept moving down until he could nose at Bill's cock, slowly inhaling the scent of Bill that was so much stronger here. Oliver kissed his way over the still soft flesh until he reached the tip, and then he took the round head into his mouth and sucked, tongue rubbing the underside experimentally.

Bill moved slowly, legs moving against the sheets in a lazy slide. He was having the best dream, about an incubus with dark hair, dark eyes and a slightly upturned nose, petting him with cool hands and peppering his body with warm kisses. The incubus looked up at him with laughing eyes, so certain of a victory, and Bill groaned softly when the head of his cock was slowly, teasingly sucked. Of all the ways to go, Bill would gladly pick this one.

Bill's cock was slowly filling, and Oliver laughed softly around the thick flesh. _Two years, my arse_ , he thought smugly. Carefully he took more of Bill into his mouth, not sure what he was doing, not wanting to mess this up. Not this. Oliver moaned softly and wrapped his hand securely around the base of Bill's shaft, head moving down until his lips were pressed to his fingers. He moaned again. Bill tasted like nothing Oliver had ever had before, and he wanted more.

The tingle of a moan vibrating along his cock pulled a long, breathy moan from Bill. He was waking, the dream slipping away, but he didn't really notice that; it felt so good, light and different than the suction charm-worthy blow jobs he normally had. His hands moved, sliding over smooth and strong shoulders, careful to avoid the incubus' wings, and up into short, soft hair, cupping and urging for more as he lifted his hips with another groan.

Oliver swallowed so he wouldn't gag as he moved his fingers and let Bill push all the way in, until the head of Bill's cock hit the back of his throat. He moaned again. Bill's hands felt so good in his hair. Bill _tasted_ extraordinary. Oliver pulled back and let Bill's cock slide partway out of his mouth, his tongue pressed to the increasingly hard flesh all the way. When the crown brushed the inside of his lips, Oliver rubbed his tongue over and around the knob of flesh and then started swallowing him down again, this time with more confidence but no less inexperience.

When he felt the scrape of teeth, Bill hissed and woke abruptly. His first thought was that this was a very strange sort of sneak thief, but if they wanted his spunk, Bill was more than happy to donate this way. But then logic set in, and he froze for a moment, not entirely willing to open his eyes for confirmation. _He wouldn't, would he?_ Another scrape of teeth, and Bill looked down at Oliver's slowly bobbing head. _He would._

"Oliver!" he said, voice not so much stern as sleep- and sex-roughened. "You're not supposed to... fuck, what are you...What possessed you?"

Oliver pulled back and let Bill slip completely from his mouth, his hand going back around the wet and glistening flesh. "You said not there," Oliver said reasonably, eyes dancing. "And god, I needed you." That _voice_ went straight to his cock. Oliver looked down at the shaft in his hand and licked his lips unconsciously. "I still need you."

His own voice was rougher now. Oliver bent and pressed his lips to the tip of Bill's cock again and sucked.

"This has got to be breaking a law somewhere," Bill groaned, head flopping back and eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck, Ollie, mind your _teeth_ , would you? If you bite my cock off, there won't be any more play for you, now would there?"

"Never done this before," Oliver muttered. "And I'm sixteen, it's no' against any law." Oliver began licking Bill's cock in low slow swipes, exaggerating the extension of his tongue and shooting Bill an almost sullen look. His teeth were nowhere near Bill's cock, though. "You could just fuck me," Oliver offered. "Then your cock would be safe." The look was nearly innocent this time. Nearly.

Bill snorted, forcibly _not_ thinking about the sixteen-year old part. "You've a lot to learn if you're going to dismiss foreplay like that," he said, and then sighed. "I don't suppose I could convince you to just go on home and get someone your own age to fuck you?" he asked, not completely certain he wanted the answer to actually be a yes.

Oliver laughed, bending to nose at Bill's balls. "Not if you want me to learn not to dismiss foreplay," he said dryly, then laughed again. He crawled up Bill's body, pressing kisses randomly over freckles, making sure to touch him as much as possible with chest and arms. "C'mon," Oliver murmured as he reached Bill's chin and kissed it. "You want to fuck me. I want you to fuck me." He grinned down at Bill. "You can teach me foreplay, even."

"Awfully sure about yourself," Bill growled, flipping them over. "Especially considering I've got no business putting my cock in you." He laughed, mostly at himself. "No matter how good it felt even when I was pissed as a fucking newt." But this time, Bill was sober and knew precisely what he was doing, knew the whole situation, right down to Oliver's age.

Relaxing under Bill, Oliver slid his arms around Bill's neck. "You do too," he said, "because I'm legal, and I want your cock in me, and that's all that matters." He tangled his fingers in Bill's hair. "Growl at me again," he whispered. "I can _feel_ it."

Legality, if not morality, aside for now, Bill felt a small thrill run through him at the idea that there wasn't any sort of real authority stopping this. He'd have had to be _dead_ to not react to Oliver's wanton behaviour, and he'd have been lying, too, if he said he hadn't been thinking about their night when he'd taken himself in hand earlier, after Oliver had begged to be fucked right on the steps of Hogwarts. He nosed up Oliver's neck and bit at his ear. "Are you this much of a slut for the other queer boys in school, Ollie?" he growled, smirk twisting his lips. "Do you beg to be filled then, too?"

"No," Oliver murmured, eyes closing as that growl shivered through him. "S'just you." He arched his neck. "You make me, mmm, make me _need_ ," Oliver said, and shifted under Bill. Wrapping one leg around Bill's, Oliver pressed up into him. "Would you rather I didn't?" he asked. "Is it wrong?"

Bill laughed softly, kissing down Oliver's neck slowly. "I don't reckon there's anything you can think of that hasn't already been done a few hundred times before by someone else," he murmured, licking along Oliver's collarbone. "And if it doesn't hurt anyone in a bad way and it's not breaking any laws," he paused, lifting his head and winking at Oliver, "then there's nothing wrong with any of it as far as I'm concerned." He smoothed his hands up Oliver's sides, bringing his arms up and over his head. "And the begging is a _good_ thing... when it's not out in the open at your school."

Oliver blushed faintly. "That one is actually your fault, you know," he said, eyebrow rising. He left his arms lax above his head, fingers loosely curled.

"Oh?" Bill paused, copying Oliver's arched brow. "Do tell, Ollie-boy."

"I've never begged for anything before in my life," Oliver said. "It must be you. You smell so good, and you taste so good, and you _feel_ so good, and I've been wanting you again ever since I had to leave." Oliver's voice got more husky with each word until he finally fell silent, watching Bill with heavy-lidded eyes.

Bill grinned, a predatory expression if ever there was one. "Well," he said, licking once up the length of Oliver's neck, "at least you've got good taste." He kissed along Oliver's shoulder, over the swell of one flexed bicep, and flickered his tongue at the soft skin on the inside of Oliver's elbow. "Pretty soon, you'll see there are a lot of blokes worth begging for, though," he added. "And if you do your homework and mind your lessons, you might be one of them one day."

Oliver swallowed a moan. He had never imagined that he'd want someone's tongue licking inside his elbow, or that it would send shivers down his spine when they did. "I'll do my homework," Oliver said, "if you'll be my study partner. And one day, I'll make _you_ beg."

"We'll see about that," Bill said mildly, fingers lightly trailing back and forth along Oliver's other arm. Moving down, Bill nibbled on one of Oliver's small, flat nipples, pulling it into his mouth and sucking.

"Oh!" Oliver's fingers twitched and his breath hitched as Bill sucked. Bill hadn't done _that_ before. "Oh, that's, that's good." Pleasure bloomed inside Oliver with each tug of Bill's lips and press of his tongue.

Bill smiled as he kissed the teased peak. "I know." Then he moved over to repeat the treatment on the other nipple, growling softly as he bit down once. Oliver tasted like skin and soap, and he smelled faintly like broom oil, making Bill wonder if the younger man (it was easier to think of Oliver as a young man like this, when Bill's cock was hard and he could feel Oliver's was just as eager for attention) had flown here. Looking up, Bill shook his head at the look on Oliver's face, thinking he ought to say something later about the wisdom in sneaking out of school for a fuck. Later.

Running his hand along Oliver's toned stomach, Bill groaned softly at the feel of rippled muscles. God, but he did so love athletes. Bill kissed down Oliver's sternum, hands moving slowly along strong sides and chest.

Oliver arched under Bill's hands and mouth and then, unable to resist, moved his arms from above his head to tangle his hands in Bill's hair again. "I love your hair," he moaned. "And your mouth. God, your mouth feels good." It was just lips, Oliver thought hazily. How could lips leave trails of fire down his body? And hands, too. Strong hands, firm strokes. "Bill," Oliver whispered, and moaned again.

Bill reached Oliver's navel and paused, cupping his hip in one hand and brushing his freckled thumb back and forth as he nuzzled Oliver's stomach. He _wanted_ Oliver, wanted to taste him, take him, and Bill would have been a fool not to take what he wanted when it was being offered to him so prettily. Eventually, Oliver would find out that orgasms felt great no matter who was giving them, so long as they were suitably creative, but for now...

"You make such lovely noises, Ollie," Bill murmured, and swirled his tongue around the edge of Oliver's navel. "They go straight to my cock."

"Mine too," Oliver rasped, spreading his legs and tightening his hands in Bill's hair. "It's the strangest thing." Oliver swallowed and moaned, breath shuddering out. "I canna breathe right," he said, "canna think at all. Is this normal? I feel so... _god_."

Purring softly, Bill rubbed his cheek against Oliver's stomach. "It's normal," he rumbled, and then dipped his tongue into Oliver's navel again, deliberately copying his rimming technique with a smirk. "Sex is supposed to be brilliant," he went on, kissing down, along Oliver's hip, smoothing his hand down one of Oliver's thighs. "It's supposed to make you lose control, Ollie-boy."

"You do," Oliver said. "Just thinking of you makes me itchy inside, and like I'm melting from the inside out. Then I remember having you inside me and I canna sit still. Your tongue is just... _fuck_ , and your hands." Writhing, one knee bending and lifting next to Bill's head, Oliver moaned again. "Your voice."

"It's always nice to be appreciated," Bill chuckled. He nosed down, following the dent of where Oliver's leg met his body and kissed the thatch of dark curls surrounding Oliver's cock. "You're quite cute when you're squirming, you know," he added absently, rubbing his cheek against the hot, hard length.

Oliver gasped and lifted his hips into the caress of Bill's cheek. "Flitwick doesna think so," he gasped. "He thinks I have some sort of medical problem." His hands tugged at Bill's hair. "He keeps threatening to send me to Pomfrey. _Bill_."

Bill lifted his head. "Hmm?" he asked mildly, the innocent look entirely ruined by his tousled hair and the hunger in his eyes. "Was there something you wanted?"

" _Yes_." Oliver tugged again. "Prat." He made a strange sound somewhere between a moan and a laugh. "I want you. Over and over. You probably know better than I do what I want."

Laughing back, Bill covered one of Oliver's hands with his own, squeezing gently. "Try not to pull too hard," he said, and then, before Oliver could say anything else, Bill lowered his head and sucked Oliver's cock into his mouth, licking and tasting, not quite halfway down the shaft. Bill felt the round head bump along the roof of his mouth, salty flesh and a taste he hadn't quite put his finger on just yet other than it being _Oliver's_ bursting over his tongue. Fastening his lips tight, Bill sucked up, swirling his tongue and letting one small groan rumble through him.

Oliver cried out, body arching up as pleasure exploded through his nerves. "Oh my _god_ ," he gasped, "is this how you felt?" He couldn't breathe. Bill's mouth wrapped around his cock was almost better than having him inside. Shivers ran over him in waves as he fought not to pull Bill's hair out at the roots, fought not to spill down his throat.

Bill didn't answer with words. Instead, he only sucked harder, taking more of Oliver in, moving slowly, giving him enough of a chance to adjust. He pressed down on Oliver's hips, holding him in place in case he got any ideas, and then swallowed, pulling Oliver completely into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth, grunting in satisfaction when he felt the head of Oliver's cock bump against the back of his throat.

"Fuck!" Oliver's voice was nearly soundless, more of a gasp than a cry, and his hips pushed against the strength of Bill's hands. He didn't get anywhere, but he couldn't stop trying. His hands slid from Bill's hair and fisted in the sheets on either side of himself. "Bill," he managed, "I'm gonna - I can't... oh god." The pleasure was rolling through him in hard waves, nearly dragging him under. " _Bill_."

Bill let go of Oliver's cock with a soft, wet pop, his lips red and damp as he looked up at Oliver. "Let go if you need to," he rasped, and slowly licked the crown before sucking on the side of Oliver's shaft. "I'm gonna fuck you either way." Then he opened his mouth and sucked Oliver back in.

"Promise?" The air was shuddering in and out of Oliver's lungs, each breath a near sob. "So good," he moaned, and let go.

When Oliver arched up, Bill relaxed his throat and let him move as he came with a beautiful, almost pained-sounding cry. Bill swallowed every last bit of Oliver's come, moaning in appreciation and enjoyment. He knew it was Oliver's inexperience that made his reactions so much _more_ , but it still did delicious things to Bill to know he was driving his partner that mad. Gently, Bill licked Oliver clean, not wasting a single drop before he moved to the side and crawled up, kissing a slow path as he went.

"That," he growled, voice raspy, "is how you suck a cock."

Oliver laughed weakly. "I can see I'll need a lot of practice," he mumbled. He lifted heavy arms around Bill, hands smoothing up the length of his back. "Will you let me practice on you?" Oliver's breath left his lungs in a long, slow, very satisfied sigh. "God, you're brilliant."

"Why thank you," Bill laughed, and kissed the upturned tip of Oliver's nose. Confused about where that urge had come from, Bill covered Oliver's mouth with his own, kissing him slowly, pushing his way into a warm, welcoming mouth and sharing the leftover flavour of Oliver's come. He settled between Oliver's legs and kept his body braced up, his cock heavy with need and almost pained from it. "You certainly do have good taste," he murmured against Oliver's lips, smirking as he repeated himself.

Oliver kissed Bill back eagerly in spite of the new taste in his mouth. "If you say so," Oliver murmured. He wasn't so sure about it himself, but expected he'd better get used to it. Especially if he wanted that practice. Lifting his hips up to push against the hard length of Bill's cock, Oliver smiled slowly. "You seem to have a little bit of a problem there. Can I... help?"

"I'm counting on it," Bill growled playfully, nipping at Oliver's lower lip. The light attitude was only a front, though; Bill _wanted_. Being woken with his cock in Oliver's mouth, the way Oliver squirmed and moaned, the taste of him still in the back of Bill's throat... Bill wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to take the time Oliver would need to be prepped properly, especially if... "Tell me, Ollie," he said in a low voice, "have you been practising getting fucked?"

"Hunh unh," Oliver said, shaking his head slowly. His lips brushed across Bill's in the process. "The blokes at school are hardly worth it. But god," he continued with a blush, "I've been wanking a lot."

Bill groaned, the mental image of Oliver like that, cock in hand, sent a shudder through Bill's already tightly wound body. "That so?" he asked, voice tight with need. "What about that charm of yours? Do you really know it, or were you lying about that, too?" Bill knew the charm Oliver had mentioned, of course, but at this point he most likely wouldn't have been able to summon his wand, much less cast any sort of real magic. All of his focus was on how it was going to feel once he was inside of that amazing body again, and it was only through sheer will that he managed to keep from rushing things now, when he knew he could still probably hurt Oliver if he wasn't careful.

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Wasn't lying," he muttered almost sulkily. He Summoned his wand and cast the charm, then stretched under Bill, reaching out to put the wand on the night table and shivering both from the slide of skin on skin, the press of hot flesh against his hip, and the admittedly odd sensation of the muscles in his arse relaxing, stretching, lubricant suddenly there, nearly oozing out of his body.

"Just like you weren't lying about shagging before?" Bill asked, leaning to the side and reaching between Oliver's legs. He smirked when he felt the extra lubrication; _someone_ had been a bit too enthusiastic in their charming. "Or about being out of school?"

Looking away, Oliver blushed. "Well, you wouldn't have fucked me if I hadn't lied. But those are the only things, I swear. And now I _have_ shagged before, once, and I only have another year of school after this one, and I'll be out." He bit his lip and moaned softly at the feel of Bill's fingers on his arse. "You promised you'd fuck me," he murmured, wrapping one leg around Bill's hips.

Bill thought about pointing out that he'd known Oliver was lying even then, but being as it didn't make him look like the best sort of bloke to knowingly shag school-aged virgins, he kept his mouth shut on the subject. Instead, he pushed two fingers in, easily breaching Oliver, and groaning in satisfaction. "And I'm going to," he said, almost breathless with desire.  
With a couple of deft moves, he flipped them over again, Oliver sprawled across his chest. "But you're going to have to do the work this time." It was the only way he could think of that wouldn't have him pounding into that arse without another thought.

"I... really?" Oliver pushed himself up, sitting astride Bill, hands braced on his chest. "I don't know what to, er. Do." Reaching back with one hand, Oliver curled his fingers around Bill's cock. He closed his eyes so he could _feel_ Bill in his hand and then scooted back a little, so he could put the head of Bill's cock at his entrance. " _Oh_ , that's..." Oliver's voice trailed off into a moan and he pushed back, onto Bill, slowly taking him inside.

"You'll... _oh, fuck_... figure it out," Bill gasped, eyes closed and hands twisting in the sheets as he let Oliver set his own pace. It was torture, moving so slowly, but Bill just bit his lip and arched his back, breathing hard through his nose as he felt every last ridge and bump of his cock slide into Oliver. "God... brilliant."

" _Yes_." Finally Oliver's arse came to rest on Bill's thighs, Bill firmly and fully inside. Oliver was panting, mouth slightly open and eyes closed. "Wow, that's..." Oliver's head fell forward and he moaned again. He stayed still as long as he could stand it, then he braced his hands on Bill's chest and lifted himself slowly up again, Bill slipping from his body. Not willing to let him out completely, Oliver stopped himself as the head of Bill's cock reached his entrance, and then he relaxed his legs, taking Bill in again just a little faster.

Bill groaned, long, low and ragged, and twitched his hips up to meet Oliver. "That's... that's it," he managed, struggling to open his eyes again, watching Oliver move in the dim moonlight filling the room. His gut tightened and need twisted through his gut, and Bill slid his palms up Oliver's lightly-haired thighs and up to his hips, fingers hard on the muscled flesh. Fuck, but Oliver was gorgeous, and Bill couldn't help but groan again as he licked his lips; Oliver's cock was half-hard again already, slowly rising between them, his abdomen taut and his legs fairly shuddering with tension. "Keep going, Ollie. God, don't stop."

"Won't stop," Oliver breathed. "Can't stop. Oh god." And he didn't, but he didn't move much faster, either. He was too caught up in the way it felt to control the sex, to have Bill sliding in and out but on _his_ , Oliver's, terms. He sat fully upright, using only the muscles in his legs to maintain his steady pace. His hands moved to wrap around his cock and cup his balls and Oliver stroked himself, much as he had for the past several weeks. The difference was, of course, Bill's cock in his arse, his body between Oliver's legs. "Bill," he moaned, "it's so _good_."

Before the pleasure had swamped him so quickly Oilver hadn't been able to enjoy the way it felt as it built and spread, had only felt the explosion and loved it. Now he let it fill him slowly, the tension growing steadily. He shivered.

" _Fuck_ ," Bill gasped, eyes riveted on Oliver's hands as he touched himself. His eyes were heavy, but there was no way Bill could stop watching Oliver like this, riding and wanking and _oh fuck_ it was good, so much better than the last time. He groaned, pushing up with a grunt to meet Oliver, trying to speed things up. "More," he growled, hands switching to grab at the sheets, his back bowing.

Oliver hummed absently in agreement. He was completely caught up in the brilliant way he _felt_. He tugged harder on his cock and groaned. Fuck! It was so _amazing_ , the difference it made having something inside him. Bill, inside him. His muscles clenched on Bill and suddenly he needed _more_. He squeezed Bill again, on purpose this time, and groaned. "More," he agreed, tightening his hands on his cock as he started moving faster. He let his weight drop him down hard on Bill instead of controlling the motion and cried out. "So bloody good," Oliver mumbled, and he did it again.

Bill moaned, his eyes falling shut as he writhed and pushed up again and again. Oliver squeezing around him, fucking himself harder and faster, sliding up and down and driving Bill mad... it was almost more than he could take, and Bill gasped brokenly, lost in sensation. "Harder," he panted, demanded. "Faster, Ollie. Fuck yourself."

"Okay," Oliver moaned, unable to refuse Bill anything. He let go of his cock and braced his hands on Bill's chest again so he could move faster, fuck himself harder. "Bill," he moaned, "fuck, Bill, it's so..." Making a garbled noise, Oliver moved even faster, letting the shove of Bill's hips up help him as he dropped down, almost bouncing on Bill as the hard slap of their flesh together echoed in the room over their panting breaths. Sweat was rolling down his nose, dropping to Bill's chest as his head hung limply, his eyes closed, his body awash in new sensation.

"Yes..." Bill hissed, blindly grabbing Oliver's cock and stroking for him. Gooseflesh prickled all over, and he was close, so close, but he didn't _want_ to give in yet, didn't want to stop, to let this feeling end. He was fucking _flying_ , the moans coming out of his mouth damn near pornographic, not that he could hear them over the roaring in his ears. "Oli... Oliver," Bill managed, squeezing his cock, thrusting up into him harder.

Bill's hands on his cock proved too much for Oliver. The _sounds_ Bill was making were obscenely beautiful. "Bill," he gasped, "I can't -" Oliver hissed on a rush of air as he lost the last thread of control and gave in, grinding down on Bill as he shook helplessly and spilled over Bill's hands and stomach.

At the same time, Bill whimpered breathily, body going stiff as he was squeezed and milked and came, so hard that his eyes rolled back and his lungs stopped working and all he could do was come and gasp and thank god for adventerous near-virgins that didn't take no for an answer. "Great bleeding fucking _hell_ ," he gasped, shuddering again.

Oliver collapsed on Bill's chest, blood and heart still racing, and snickered weakly. "Yeah," he mumbled. He kissed Bill's chest and sighed. "I think I'm beginning to understand why you like foreplay." He laughed softly again.

Bill chuckled and wrapped loose arms around Oliver. "Such an eager student," he said, and sighed. "Speaking of, oughtn't you be getting back to school?"

"Nope," Oliver said smugly. He settled himself on Bill's chest, arms folded and chin resting on them as he gazed down at Bill. "Our Seeker's out for at least the weekend, so no practice. And no class until Monday." Oliver raised his eyebrows meaningfully at Bill. "Nowhere I have to be for _days_."

Shaking his head at Oliver's brashness, Bill traced the ridge of Oliver's spine. He'd followed that path the last time with lips and tongue, and Bill smiled faintly at the memory. But it also reminded him that this was all the experience with sex Oliver had ever had, and that, legal or not, Bill was too old to be fooling around with someone this age. Not when Oliver had so much to learn.

"What?" Oliver asked, eyes closing slightly in pleasure at the feel of Bill's fingers moving up his back. "I don't. We can sleep for a bit, and then we can do this again." He laughed. "And again, and again."

"You're a lot of fun, Ollie," Bill said in a heavy voice. "But... Well, you can't tell me there aren't other queer boys at school."

Oliver's smile faded. _Fun?_ "Maybe there are," he admitted grudgingly. "I don't want _them_." He moved his arms, kissed Bill's chest. "I thought you liked -" _me_ "- it."

"I do," Bill said. "It's brilliant fun, but you really ought to be doing these sorts of things with your mates. Or at least a moderately attractive kid your own age. Not..." He flattened his hand and splayed it across the small of Oliver's back, warm and heavy, "that I'm not enjoying reaping the benefits, because I am."

"Why?" Oliver asked, honestly confused. "They don't know what they're doing, either. But you..." Oliver smiled smugly. "You know exactly."

Bill laughed, flattered. "And I'm gone most of the time on another continent, living on my own and doing adult things with other adults while your mum still buys your pants for you," he said, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

Oliver turned bright red. "Only because she gets them with my school robes," he muttered. The rest of Bill's sentence sunk in and Oliver scowled slightly, still blushing. "What adult things are you doing?" He felt irrationally jealous. He knew Bill wasn't his, not after only two fucks, but he still _felt_ as if they belonged to each other.

"Fucking, Oliver," Bill said, more gently than he probably ought to.

Oliver's scowl deepened. He didn't ask who, though he desperately wanted to. "Well, you can fuck me," he said sullenly. "I can be better than them."

"Sure you can," Bill said, barely resisting the urge to ruffle Oliver's hair. "But not if you don't practise. Who knows, maybe you'll surprise me." Really, Bill didn't expect Oliver to spare him much thought after he was gone a few weeks, but if it helped now...

Besides, it was fun to think of the possibility of them meeting up again one day. Even if Oliver's uncensored reactions would been worn smooth by experience by then.

"I only want to practise with you," Oliver said, giving Bill a look full of hurt before moving, letting Bill slip from his body with a slight wince before climbing off. Walking a bit awkwardly, Oliver headed nude for the window, bending to gather his pants and robes, then reluctantly deciding he should dress _before_ he left. All things considered.

"Oliver..." Bill sighed, his bloody Gryffindor sense of fair play getting to him. He stood and walked over, curling one of his hands over a tense and miserable shoulder. "You're too young to be fucking just one person, especially me," he said intently. The kid needed to understand this, Bill needed to nip this in the bud, but at the same time, Bill was hating himelf for being seven kinds of an arse for hurting Oliver. _When did I care that much about a shag, anyhow?_ "Hell, I can't even make that work, and I'm six years older. Save yourself the headaches, kid."

Oliver shrugged off Bill's hand. "Age has nothing to do with it," he said, and tugged his robes on over his head.

Bill scowled. "Oh really? And what does?" he asked, irritated now.

"The way you feel," Oliver said quietly. "You're just fucking around and don't care about any of them. Us. Any of us." Oliver shrugged his shoulders again so that his robes fell correctly and curled his hand around his broomstick, pulling it close. "Thank you for my broom," he said. He knew he should just go, but instead he stood and drank in the sight of Bill, nude and covered in spunk. He was beautiful.

"I'm not going to ask you to the Yule Ball, you know," Bill said, rolling his eyes. "Hell, we didn't even know last names until twelve hours ago, _Wood_ , so don't expect me to get down on one knee and..." He stopped himself, seeing the heartache behind Oliver's eyes. "Would you rather I made all kinds of false promises?" he said instead, voice softer now. "That I say I'd only fuck you if you only fucked me, and then made a point of not letting you find out about what I do while I'm away? We're not a couple, Oliver, but we could be mates if we're honest with each other for a change."

"No," Oliver said, "I don't want false promises. I might be a kid, but I'm not stupid." He smiled faintly and reached out, trailing the fingers of one hand over Bill's chest. "You're too good at this not to be doing it while you're away." He dropped his hand and curled it into a fist, fingertips still tingling. He sighed. "Sorry. I know we're not a couple. I'd like to be mates, though." His smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and his heart still hurt, but Oliver was determined to show Bill he could at least _act_ like a grown-up.

Bill snagged Oliver by the wrist and pulled him closer. He ought to turn the kid around and send him on home, Bill knew. But instead, he pried gently at Oliver's fist, losening the curl of fingers and tried to get Oliver to relax. "C'mon," he murmured, nosing along Oliver's ear. "I thought you were staying the night?"

Oliver stayed rigid for several seconds before relaxing into Bill with another sigh. He knew he should go but he couldn't resist the chance to have Bill again, just one more time. "I thought maybe you'd changed your mind," Oliver murmured back. He laughed softly, wryly. "Muggles call it 'friends with benefits,' yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Sure," Bill said absently, slowly unfastening Oliver's robes. "So long as no one finds out I've been contributing to the deliquency of an under-aged wizard."

"Right." Oliver's lips twisted, and his head fell back so he could stare at the ceiling until his expression smoothed out. He understood, really he did, that it was smarter not to tell anyone, that while _he_ didn't think age had anything to do with it others would, but fuck. That _hurt_.

Oliver finally put his broom back against the window frame, freeing his hands to curl through Bill's hair. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm not delinquent." Then he tugged, bringing Bill's mouth to his own. He'd take whatever Bill would give and be grateful, he decided, ignoring the ache that curled through him at the thought.

"Hmm... maybe not," Bill said. "Delicious, though," he added with a lick to Oliver's bottom lip. "And at times, even delightful." He just wanted to distract Oliver, let him get past the sting of rejection, so that when he realised one day that Bill, while good, wasn't the best fuck he'd ever have, he could walk away more whole and less hurt than Bill had when his own first had ditched him on the last day of school, right on the train platform in Hogsmeade.

Oliver smiled in spite of himself. "Delightful?" he said with a smirk. "That's a new one." He stroked his hands through Bill's hair and then pet his neck and shoulders. "You're a little dirty," he murmured, and scratched his fingers lightly through the flaking mess on Bill's stomach.

Bill chuckled, pushing Oliver's robes off his shoulders. "My mind's even dirtier," he said against Oliver's throat, and then nipped at the smooth skin. He was rapidly becoming addicted to the taste of Oliver, but Bill would just have to deal with that later. He stepped back, hands sliding away last as he smiled temptingly. "I think I'll take a shower," he said, keeping eye contact for a moment longer, sauntering over to the loo. He tossed a heated look over his shoulder when he reached the door, and wondered if Oliver would know that for the invitation it was.


	2. Chapter 2

~~~*~~~  


Swallowing hard against a suddenly dry mouth, Oliver stepped out of his robes again and followed as if mesmerised. "We should conserve water," he said absently, reaching out to run his fingers over the curve of Bill's arse.

"We should," Bill agreed, turning on the water and stepping under the warm spray. His hair turned dark as it soaked up the water, plastered against his skull and down between his shoulderblades, rivulets of water running down the long, lean lines of his body as he turned and smirked at Oliver. "Get my back, Ollie?"

 _Always_ , Oliver thought wistfully, then shoved it away. "Absolutely," he said instead and stepped into the shower, hands following the trails of water over Bill's body. One hand reached further and cupped Bill's balls then stroked up his cock. "Turn around," Oliver murmured with an answering smirk.

Bill groaned and laughed at the same time, affectionately kissing the very tip of Oliver's nose before turning around obediently. "It's only fair to warn you, though," he said with a smile, "I'm still going to need a bit of a rest before I'll have it in me to put it in _you_ again."

Oliver grabbed the soap and worked up a handful of lather before smoothing it over Bill's back. "I'm sure you'll be fine by the time we're clean again," Oliver said on a laugh. He stepped close and slid his arms around Bill, rubbing soapy hands over Bill's stomach. He nosed along Bill's spine. "Or we could just go back to bed. Sleep."

"Will you actually be there when I wake up this time?" Bill teased, brushing his fingers over the back of Oliver's soapy hand.

"No practice tomorrow, I told you," Oliver said, blushing a little. "God, I was almost late. I'm the _captain_ , I can't be late to my own practice."

Laughing, Bill leaned back against Oliver. "Your team would've dropped over from shock," he said. "As far as Fred and George can see, you probably think about quidditch sunup to sundown. Me, though, I'm sure there's more than that on your mind, yeah?"

Oliver laughed. "Only after sundown," he said, hands creeping down to curl around Bill's cock again, squeezing and stroking the soft flesh. He kissed the middle of Bill's back and rested his forehead there. "But yeah, I'd've never heard the end of that. Little out of breath when I got there, but I got there before your brothers did."

"Lucky that," Bill commented idly, threading his fingers with Oliver's free hand and impusively holding it close.

"Mmm," Oliver agreed, curling his fingers over and around Bill's. "Take the mickey out of me, they would. Have they always been that way?" Oliver started kissing down Bill's spine, occasionally sucking at the knobs of bone, moving slowly but surely down.

"Always," Bill said lazily, head tilting forward into the spray. "What're you up to back there, Ollie?"

"Nothing," Oliver said, smiling widely. "Nothing at all." He went to his knees and nosed at the top of Bill's crease. "Good thing I'd already learned to Apparate."

Bill groaned softly, surprised that Oliver would actually do this, but widened his stance anyhow, and turned down the spray of water just a bit. "You're not supposed to get your license for another year," he said. "Breaking all sorts of rules, weren't you?"

Oliver shrugged. "Your brothers would say that rules are meant to be broken. And it's not like I had a choice, ye ken. I never would have made it on time through the Floo." Arm stretched up to leave his hand in Bill's, Oliver used the other to spread Bill open a little. His voice was husky as he hesitantly asked, "Do, do ye like this?" and then kissed the small wrinkled hole.

"Yes," Bill breathed, leaning forward a bit, bracing his free hand against the shower wall and exposing more of himself as his cock gave a small twitch of interest. It took several long seconds for him to remember what they'd been talking about, and when Bill spoke again, his voice was a bit more ragged than before. "Underage drinking, sneaking out of school, unlicensed Apparation... you're a bad boy, Ollie."

"You're the one who gave me the drink," Oliver said mildly. "Not that I had much." He stuck out his tongue and stroked the flat of it over Bill's entrance. "It was past time," he said, "and definitely worth it." Firming his tongue, he pushed it into Bill's body, just a little, pulled out, and pushed in again.

The hand holding Oliver's dropped a bit and Bill grunted at the intrusion. "God," he said, and leant forward more.

"Oliver," Oliver said with a smirk. He tugged his hand free so he could spread Bill's cheeks wide and shove his tongue in farther. With more enthusiasm than finesse, Oliver began to fuck Bill with his tongue, making obscene noises as he did.

 _Cheeky little bastard_. The thought went through Bill's mind, but the words only came out as a breathy moan. For what he lacked in skill and experience, Oliver certainly made up for in desire, and Bill could feel his cock starting harden again already. " _Oliver_ ," he groaned finally, deliberately drawing out the name as he pushed back for more.

Oliver hummed in response, tongue steadily rubbing in and out. His hand crept forward, fingers curling around the slowly firming flesh they found. Doing this was almost as good as having it done. Oliver felt his own cock filling and lengthening, and he hummed again. He loved Bi- this. _This_. His fingers tightened on Bill and he shoved his tongue in harder.

Bill cried out softly, neck arching and head going back. "Brilliant," he gasped, shaking and tensing around Oliver's tongue.

Pulling his tongue free, Oliver began kissing Bill's back again, frantic sucking kisses that started where his tongue had been and didn't end until he bit Bill's shoulder. "Please," he whispered, pressing himself hard to Bill's back. "Please, fuck me."

For a moment, a long moment, Bill was tempted to turn around and just fuck Oliver against the wall. But he was still weak at the knees from their last go 'round, and wasn't entirely certain he'd be able to stay upright if he tried. Instead, he turned around and captured Oliver's mouth in a hot, devouring kiss, their teeth clacking once as their tongues tangled and Bill dragged them out of the shower, spray left going behind them. Slowly, fumbling, they made their way back to the bed, and Bill reached down to find Oliver still slick and loose. Hopefully loose enough. He guided Oliver down onto the bed, stretching out atop him, hands petting his face and sides, his cock nearly hard enough now to give Oliver what he wanted.

Oliver mewled and wrapped himself around Bill. "Yes," he murmured, "god, please." Arching his hips, Oliver rubbed his cock against Bill's stomach, letting the need swamp him again. Giving himself over completely to Bill again.

Bill positioned himself right at Oliver's entrance, and paused as he found just enough sense to lean forward and whisper in Oliver's ear, "Tell me if I hurt you, gorgeous. S'not supposed to hurt if you don't want it to." And then, without waiting for an answer, Bill pushed in, gasping at how tight Oliver had gotten already.

Oliver's mouth fell open and he stopped breathing. Good. So fucking good, and the stretch was almost too much which made it perfect. And Bill called him gorgeous. Time seemed to slow, the entire universe waiting with Oliver as Bill worked himself in and then it started up again with a rush when Bill slid completely home. Oliver could hear the blood roaring through his veins and the air rushing into his lungs again, and he dug his fingers into Bill's back. He moaned, feeling drunk with the pleasure of having Bill again. _I'm addicted_ , he thought absently, and grinned.

Back and forth with slow, deep strokes, Bill went, unable and unwilling to move any faster. He moaned along with Oliver, mouth open against his neck, and then struggled to breathe again. The pleasure wrapped around him, pulling him into Oliver, made him want to move deeper, further, merge them into one because he _knew_ it would be the most amazing sensation of his life. "You feel so good," he breathed softly, even though it always felt good, so why point it out? But this time it was all over Bill, around him, possessing him, and all he could do was moan again, kissing Oliver's pulse point as he pushed in again, grinding his hips as they met. "So fucking good."

"Yeah," Oliver agreed breathlessly, lifting into each slow thrust, neck arching under Bill's mouth. "Better than flying." One hand crept up into Bill's hair, cradling his skull and holding him close. "S'brilliant."

Bill moved slowly, steadily, whispering words of praise in between his quiet moans, not fully recognising his voice as his own. All he knew was that while he was engulfed in the pleasure, the need for more, the tight coil that always pushed for _harder, faster, now_ , was tightening so very slowly. He could feel the gradual build, and it made him shudder deliciously, rotating his hips and pushing back in again.

Oliver was lost in the steady thrusts, the quiet murmurs of Bill's voice, the slowly growing pleasure. _This is making love_ , he thought dizzily. It was just as fantastic as fucking, and completely different. Smiling, Oliver guided Bill's mouth to his for repeated light, easy kisses, murmuring his pleasure back to Bill as their lips brushed. He knew he could stay right here like this with Bill forever.

"Ollie," Bill gasped, moving to meet Oliver's kisses, the shift pushing him somehow deeper, and nerves all over Bill's body tingled, the need doubling in that instant. From pure reflex, Bill changed angle, seeking the nub of Oliver's prostate, and groaning in quiet triumph when he found it.

Oliver cried out as stars exploded in his head. "Bill," he moaned, hitching his legs higher around Bill, locking his ankles at the small of Bill's back. His hands tightened in Bill's hair, the kisses more urgent as the pleasure grew exponentially with each pass of hard flesh over that spot inside him. " _Bill._ "

There was something in the _way_ Oliver said his name that pushed Bill higher, and his eyes opened just enough for him to look down and see Oliver's face, lost in the same pleasure that had taken over Bill as well. "Gorgeous," he breathed, and then pushed harder and deeper than before with a long moan.

"Bill?" Oliver's voice shuddered out as his breath did, body arching with the stronger thrust. So good, it was so good, it was perfect. Pleasure coiled around his spine and crept up, sparking in his brain every time Bill pushed into him. Oliver felt the newly familiar rush of need in his stomach that meant he wouldn't last much longer. _No_ , he thought, _not yet. Not yet._

"Right here," Bill thought, maybe he spoke, he wasn't sure. "I've got you, Olllie. I've got you." His head was too heavy to hold up any longer, and Bill bowed to touch their foreheads together as they moved.

Oliver couldn't hold it back and started to pant, small needy sounds spilling out of his mouth with nearly each rush of air. His hand shifted forward to cup Bill's cheek. _Keep me_ , he thought. _I'm yours._ What he said was, "I need ye." His body tightened on Bill's on the next inward thrust, as if trying to keep him there, and Oliver moaned again.

"Right here. Oh god," Bill moaned again, his scalp prickling and his orgasm irrevocably near now. "Oh god, Oliver, so close. Come for me, Oliver. So gorgeous when you come..."

"Yes. For you," Oliver breathed, barely audible. He forced his eyes open to look at Bill, so very close, so very beautiful, and gave in. His eyes drifted shut again as Bill pushed in, and in, and one more and Oliver gasped as he came, his body jerking up into Bill as his nerve endings exploded.

One more thrust into Oliver's clenching body and Bill was lost, mouth working open and closed over and over again as he came as well, spilling with an almost triumphant cry. He felt like he was flying, only there was no crash when it ended, only a slow and gradual release. Shaking, Bill let himself collapse, barely rolling to the side in time. _That was.... different._

Oliver could feel the satisfied grin stretching across his face as his lungs stopped heaving. He hummed and rolled as well, curling into Bill's chest with a sigh, eyes still shut. "We're dirty again," he mumbled. "S'brilliant."

"Shower... later..." Bill mumbled and yawned, pulling Oliver into his arms and curling around him. "Sleep _now_."

"'Kay," Oliver whispered. His whole body felt loose and heavy, and Oliver thought he could happily just stay right here for the rest of his life. "Be here in the morning," he promised absently, letting himself start to drift off. "Thanks."

Bill snorted weakly in laughter. "S'a good thing I'm leaving on Monday," he mumbled, not meaning to speak at all. "You'd kill me by Tuesday."

Oliver's eyes popped open at that. "Monday?" he asked softly, lying very still, feeling suddenly nowhere near sleep.

"Mmm..." Bill said, nuzzling close. "Back to work. Back to Egypt. Least, until the bank brings me back here again."

"Oh." Oliver hesitated, then said, "D'you know when that'll be?" _Egypt_. Oliver frowned.

Bill made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat. "Month or two?" He yawned, jaw popping.

"Oh," Oliver said again, voice even smaller. He closed his eyes as they started to sting, and slowly inhaled, breathing in the scent of Bill and _them_ , trying to memorise it. "Well. I'll write."

"Mmm... nice of you," Bill mumbled and then snuggled closer. "Can I go to sleep now, Ollie? You've worn me out with that body of yours..."

"Go to sleep," Oliver murmured. "I want to wear you out again in the morning."

 

~**~**~**~**~**~**~

 

Oliver was a little sore and walking just a little strangely as he crept into the Gryffindor dorms on Sunday. He thought everyone would be eating and he could just go to bed again, alone this time, and be ready to at least pretend everything was fine in the morning.

He'd almost made it to the stairs to the boys' rooms when he was caught by a hand at the scruff of his neck and he yelped, sure it was McGonagall and he was going to be expelled.

"Wood," a voice said, "Funny finding you here instead of filling your bottomless gut in the Great Hall like normal."

"Angelina," Oliver said with disproportionate relief. "I'm, er, m'not hungry, really." He turned to face her as she let go and gave her a smile.

She put her hands on her hips and stared hard at him. "What have you been doing? You look guilty."

He couldn't help himself. He grinned, knew as he did that it was the most ridiculous expression he'd ever worn, and said, "Nothing bad."

Eyes widening, Angelina grabbed the sleeve of his robes and dragged him to the sofa, then shoved him so he sat, and curled up on the sofa next to him, tucking her lugs under and puliing her skirt over her knees. "Spill," she demanded.

"I, er, yeah," Oliver said, smile widening. "I was just with my boyfriend, is all."

For a minute, Angelina just sat there with her jaw hanging open before she recovered and laughed, shoving Oliver playfully. "Fine, don't tell me then," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. "I've only spent all day covering for you since I saw you sneak out last night."

"No, really!" Oliver protested. "Was there, er, a lot of covering? Thanks, Ang, I owe you _so_ much." He sighed and relaxed into the sofa, the goofy grin coming back. "God."

Angelina just waved her hand, suspicious glare dialed down as she started to wonder if Oliver wasn't having her on after all. "I told them you were off having a sulk about your broom..." Her eyes went to the new broomstick in Oliver's hand, and her mouth fell open a second time in as many minutes. "That's a..." she said, awe filling her voice. "Wood, where did you _get_ that?!"

His face was starting to hurt from the wide grin that just wouldn't go away. "He bought it for me," Oliver said quietly, still awed. "He saw the game, and saw what happened, so he just... got it." Oliver ran his hands over the smooth length of the wood again.

"You're serious," she said, sitting back in shock. There was no way Oliver's parents would have given him enough money for a Nimbus, because most parents just didn't understand the importance of a good broom. But a boyfriend, a _good_ boyfriend would, or so Angelina liked to think. Not that she'd had a boyfriend like that, and Lee didn't count because he was just too... well, he was _Lee_. Her eyes filled with hurt as she looked at her best friend. "You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend."

"He wasn't, not until yesterday!" Oliver let go the broom with one hand and curled it around her hand, squeezing. "I mean, we had sex before, but yesterday was just different. He's _brilliant_ , Ang. Just bloody fucking brilliant all the way 'round."

"Really?" She chewed on the tip of her tongue, thinking. But they weren't best friends for nothing, so she decided to believe him. "So who is he? What house is he in?" She scowled, thinking about who would have the kind of Galleons to spend on a broom. "He's not a bloody _Slytherin_ , is he?"

Oliver gave her the look _that_ deserved. "I wouldna trust a snake enough to sleep wi' him," he said indignantly. "No, he was Gryffindor when he was here. All the Weasleys are Gryffindors, it's like a _rule_ , or something." Oliver looked at her out of the corner of his eye, blushing, wondering what she'd think of everything. Of Bill.

Angelina leaned forward, her eyes wide. " _Was_?" she asked. "A Weasley? But... but Charlie Weasley always..." She ducked her head, embarrassed. "Damnit, and I always had a thing for him, too."

"Not Charlie," Oliver said gently. He squeezed her hand again. "Bill. It's Bill Weasley." He felt something in his heart lurch just saying his name, just telling someone else. "But," he added painfully, "we can't tell anyone yet. It has to stay quiet."  
Angelina sucked in a surprised gasp. "Oliver..." she breathed, leaning in with an earnest look. "He's _old_." She paused, thinking again. "Is that why you can't tell anyone?"

Oliver nodded miserably. "He's afraid he'll be in trouble because I'm sixteen, I think." Sighing again, Oliver added, "Besides, he has to go back to Egypt anyway." He shrugged, already missing Bill terribly. "I don't think he's _that_ old," he added absently.

It was her turn to be comforting, so Angelina patted Oliver's hand and scooted closer. "That's rubbish," she said. "You're old enough to date whoever you want, even if he _is_ really old and is all the way off in Egypt. What's he doing there and not here, anyhow?" A good boyfriend should _be there_ , as far as Angelina was concerned.

"That's what I said, but he says he doesn't want anyone to know he's contributed to the delinquency of a minor." Oliver rolled his eyes. "And it's work. He works there." Oliver realised suddenly that he had no idea what Bill did. He'd have to ask Percy. _Well, it's not like we talked about his job_ , he thought. Still. Wait. Percy had said his eldest brother... "Works for Gringott's," Oliver said.

Lips compressed disapprovingly and head twitching to the side a bit, Angelina rolled her eyes. "Well, I reckon if he works for the bank, he ought to be careful about those sorts of things," she said, not entirely believing it herself. But Oliver really did have a dreamy look on his face, and it wouldn't do any good to cause trouble now.

"That's complete shite and you know it," Oliver said. "If two people love each other it doesn't matter." Oliver thought that if he said it often enough, it might even be true.

Angelina's eyes softened and she clasped her hands together over her heart. "Really?" she asked. "Oh my god, you have got to tell me what it's like! Is it _really_ like they say?"

Oliver laughed. "Well, that would depend on what they say, now, wouldn't it?" He settled back, relaxing, eyes going softer as he thought about Bill. "It's the most amazing thing in the whole world, even better than flying."

"Nuh- _uh_ ," she said, and twisted around, leaning back against Oliver, looking up at the ceiling. "Nothing's better than flying. Not even love."

"I promise," Oliver said softly. He laughed. "This is _me_ , Angie, saying it's better than flying. It's..." His voice trailed off as he thought, then he finished, "it's a different sort of flying, I guess." He smirked. "With an even better broomstick."

Angelina rolled her eyes and elbowed him. "So it's the same for the sex, then?" she asked, sitting up and sticking her tongue out at him.

"The sex is brilliant." Oliver laughed again. "It's a little scary, at first, because god." He shook his head. "It's just so, so, I don't know. Huge. The feelings." Oliver gestured helplessly. "It just grows and grows and grows until you explode. I mean, the first time went so fast and then I had to go, but this time... We did it four times." The goofy grin was back.

" _Four times_?" Angelina sat back, clearly impressed. "Wow. How did you meet him anyway? And _does_ Charlie fancy girls? Because that would be the most wicked double date ever."

"I met him in London a few weeks ago." Oliver nudged her. "You remember, I told you I went to that club. And then I was almost late to practice the next day? I didn't actually go in the club, because just as I was going in he came out and we went to his hotel instead. And then, I told you, he came to the game to see us." Oliver didn't mention that Bill hadn't known who he was until after the game. "Mrs Weasley wanted to be sure Harry was okay, so she made Bill get a room in Hogsmeade for the weekend. But he has to leave for Egypt tomorrow." Oliver shrugged, giving Angelina a smile. "I don't know about Charlie. I can ask Bill, if you like. We're going to write. A double date would be wicked, definitely."

"It was Bill that night? Wow," Angelina sighed. "And now you're _together_ , and in love, and it's just so completely _not fair_ that you get all this romance and you're a sodding boy, while all I've got is bloody Lee Jordan trying to get a peak at my knickers!"

"Oi! Boys need romance too. Some of us," Oliver said, and laughed. He sobered quickly. "We aren't together, though, and it completely sucks. He's going off to Egypt -" _to do adult things with other adults_ "- and I'm stuck here for a whole 'nother year after this one." Oliver shoved away the little voice trying to remind him that they weren't a couple and that Bill was planning to fuck other people. Bill loved him, he was sure. Just didn't know it yet. Bill had bought him a Nimbus 2000, hadn't he? And woken him up to have sex and then jumped him again before he left. Oliver shifted where he sat. He could still _feel_ Bill down there. "Just letters, is all, until he comes back."

"But he _will_ be back," she said, grabbing Oliver's hand and squeezing it. "You're here, anyhow."

"He said maybe a couple months," Oliver said sadly. Two months was forever. And Oliver had to admit, if only to himself, that Bill hadn't said anything about seeing him then, either. Surely Bill would want him to meet up somewhere.

Seeing Oliver so miserable, Angelina curled up against him again. " _The course of true love never did run smooth_ ," she quoted softly. They sat there for a moment or so before she craned her head around, serious for a moment. "But just so you know, if he hurts you, I'll hex his bollocks off."

Oliver smiled. "Thanks," he said softly, grinning. "Check with me first, though, I might still want to use them."

"That's gross, Wood," she said, face screwed up in mock disgust. "Let's talk about something other than your sex life. Like, when are you going to let me take that beauty of yours out for a fly about the castle?"

"I like my sex life," Oliver said mildly. "You'll like my sex life too, because it means you can take the broom now." He laughed. "Be careful, though. It's the most important thing I own now."

"Really?" Angelina sat up, excited. "You're the _best_!" Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed his cheek hard just as the portrait hole opened at the far end of the room. "I need to change; be back in a tick!" And then she was gone, hurrying up to the girls' dorm to put on trousers and to get her flying robes.

Oliver laughed as he watched her go. Part of him hadn't wanted to let her use his broom, because it was a gift from Bill and wicked expensive, but she was his best mate and she understood and she'd be careful. He hoped.


End file.
